


Divergent Drabble Collection

by ParadigmFlaws



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Smut, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadigmFlaws/pseuds/ParadigmFlaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles, either my own or written off of prompts from tumblr. Shorter works that don't fit into any of my established timelines. Will include a variety of pairings but most likely to feature EricxOC and FourxOC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fulfillment (Four/OC)

**Author's Note:**

> An anonymous prompt on Tumblr that wanted a smutty Four one-shot. Tried for a slightly different tone of writing (less narration) and this is what I came up with. It reads a little differently than my normal stuff but I think I like it.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at [paradigmflaws](http://paradigmflaws.tumblr.com/). I'd love to hear from you! I'm generally always accepting prompts and requests.

She reached out, her hands grasping his forearms. The hold was anchored with nails, her hips rolling desperately against his. A high pitched whimper caught in the back of her throat as Four remained unrelenting. Not even her heels, now pressing firmly into his ass, had convinced him to thrust faster. Alcohol and desire fanned her arousal, her muscles clamping tightly around his cock.

 

Feeling it, Four's slow rhythm drew to a halt, his hips pressed flush against hers. She scored her nails down his muscled forearms. "Damn you, Four! Don't you _dare-!_ "

 

He did. Rolling against her only slightly to increase the pressure, he put a knee into his mattress to bring himself higher over her. She shuddered at the changing pressure, clenching around him again.

 

"Four!"

 

Finally, he moved. Pulling back so far that the head of his cock almost slipped out of her, she keened and bucked wildly at the perceived threat of a withdrawal. It was an unnecessary concern. Four pushed back into her, more strongly this time, withdrew - repeated the action. It was enough to drive her arousal higher, keening noises slipping out between her lips. In desperation, she took one hand from his forearm, shoving it down to where they were joined, and stroked her clit.

 

She trembled, muscles tensing throughout her entire body. The tightness that coiled within her belly finally released as she came, her orgasm coming in waves that had her clenching around him with an agonizing tightness. Four couldn't take the additional sensation. He shuddered over her as his orgasm hit, his forearms dropping to the mattress beside her head to prevent from crushing her underneath him.

 

The aftermath of arousal was a comforting sensation, lethargy creeping over them both. Edged with alcohol, it was enough for her drop back to his mattress, supine, as her eyes fluttered shut. Only marginally more sober, Four shoved himself over with his arms, falling onto his back beside her.


	2. Reconciliation (Eric/OC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are times when she wonders if it's worth it. And then she remembers why it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from [my tumblr.](http://paradigmflaws.tumblr.com/) I'm always accepting prompts and requests, so feel free to send them to me there! I also post writing thoughts, updates, and general nonsense there. It's good fun.

  
I looked at the clock. It hadn’t magically reset itself to an earlier hour. The digital numbers blazed through the dimness that characterized the subterranean parts of the Dauntless compound. 

Eric was late. Very late. And I had given him an hour’s leeway (could I even consider it a grace period? It had been an hour) to show up even after the time he had promised he would be there. 

My heart twisted. Shoving myself off the slab of rock that I had been sitting on, I staggered as my feet hit the floor. I had been seated for too long. Parts of my legs were numb with inactivity. The physical discomfort provided me with a distraction as I made my way through the maze of halls, lit with blue light that illuminated a few square feet before letting the rest of the walkway fade into blackness.

I didn’t need the light to guide me.

I knew where I was going. The trek to Eric’s office was a familiar one.  
  
My heart used to jump and flutter when I came this way. I was so excited to see him. Lately, though, every step made my heart heavier, as if it were turning to stone in my chest. Anxiety was a new pull in my mind, an unfamiliar voice nagging concerns at me.

'Maybe he's just not interested.' 'It's clear he's not going to give this time.' 'Is this actually a relationship? Is this just okay when it's convenient?'

His office door was shut. I rapped on it with my knuckles, doing my best to ignore the voice. Without waiting for a response, I shouldered it open. He hadn’t locked it, this time.

To his credit, Eric made no excuses when he saw me. There wasn’t even surprise on his face, which felt like just another solid blow to my stomach. He hadn’t forgotten. He just… I couldn’t even begin to rationalize it. I couldn’t understand it.

The piercing over his eyebrow shifted as he arched it at me, that silent ‘well?’ expression that made me want to reach over to slap him. If I could have gotten away with it, I might have. My temper was an ineffectual thing though, sliding down a sharp recess into a depressive state. Feeling was a coiled lump in my stomach.

"I’m busy," he told me after a moment, when it became clear I wasn’t going to speak immediately. "What do you need?"

His words, their careless cruelty, left me winded. They left me speechless. They left me reeling. Any temper I had kept, embarrassment, shame, had fled into some corner of my soul, and they invited me to join them in their retreat. It didn’t matter to him.

I didn’t matter.

Tears burned hot in my eyes, although I refused to weep in front of him. “It’s nothing,” I said, my voice slightly rigid but unshaking. “Forget about it.”  
  
I didn’t stay to watch his expression as I turned and (carefully - so carefully, with the quietest, most incriminating little click in the world) shut the door behind me. My knuckles were white around the handle.

It took everything that I had to keep my emotions tightly shackled. I wanted to shout, I wanted to scream - but most of all, I just wanted to curl up in a corner, draw my knees up to my chest, and sob. To my credit, I managed to make it to my room, the key almost clumsily unfamiliar in my hand. I couldn’t go to his apartment. Not now. I couldn’t be surrounded with reminders of him.

Shoving the door shut with a hip, I didn’t bother to lock it as I paced over to the ledge by the windows. Collapsing onto it, I finally gave into my need to express my tears.

It didn’t matter.

I didn’t matter.

In the grand scheme of Eric’s life, it was only about what was timely for him, what was convenient.

How long I lingered there in my misery, I couldn’t have said. This time there was no digital clock to mock me. Late afternoon light had faded into evening based on the sunlight outside, but that wasn’t terribly helpful when the summer days seemed to drag on into an eternity. I should have been hungry, but I wasn’t. Nausea was a vague, roiling thing in my gut as tears trailed damp tracks down my face.

I had cried myself out, only to find I still had more tears to shed. I was left exhausted, leaning against the window and staring down sightlessly at the city below. I wanted to be numb. I wanted to excise this part of me that hurt so deeply.

The hand on my shoulder was a surprise. I hadn’t heard the door open, didn’t hear the steady, firm tread of his boots on my floor. I still knew who it was. The large hand, hot palm, and calloused fingers belonged to no one else other than Eric. His touch was a brand to me - I would always recognize it.  
  
I did not turn around.

Not even when his hand reached up to cup the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking the delicate skin behind my ear. He stood close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him.

He coaxed me to stand, although he let me remain facing the window.  
  
At first, we simply stood there. His fingers trailed reverent paths over my skin, skin that he exposed inch by inch has he pulled clothing aside to reveal it. His head was bowed, lips against my shoulders where he pressed a trail of kisses against the skin there.

We didn’t speak.

Even as he coaxed me to kick off my shoes, step out of my pants, could feel the naked heat of him at my back, we didn’t try to find the words. Words hurt, I thought. Words deceived.

…I was bad with words. So was he.

What mattered more was what he was trying to say in his touch. His big hands swept down my sides, as if to smooth away the wear of the day. His breath was a promise at my back, coupled with the sacrosanct kisses that he had placed ever so gently at the base of my neck.

When he finally turned me - or I turned myself? We were so tuned to one another, that I couldn’t say whose idea it was - I knew his apology for what it was.

Eric would never say the words aloud. But, as he carried me over to the bed that had always been mine, I knew the regrets all the same. He placed me on the mattress, coming over me with the overwhelming presence that he had always possessed. Instead of domineering, though, instead of demanding, taking, conquering, he swept me along to an entirely different tide.

His touches brought me higher, highlighted with reverent kisses and tiny touches over my body. When I finally came, Eric was only moments behind me. Folding himself over me, his forearms braced into the mattress as he rubbed his cheek against mine, I was struck with understanding.

I would never receive an apology - but he had my forgiveness all the same. He would never speak the promises, but I knew of his regret all the same.


	3. Hindsight, Again (Eric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric deals with new Dauntless initiates. What are younger teenagers compared to that? He suspects an hour (or less!) of watching Dauntless dependents will be easy.
> 
> Hindsight says he is very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prompt that actually made the rounds a little - I initially gave it (Eric + Children) to the amazing [Ridea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ridea/pseuds/Ridea) over on tumblr. She sent it back my way with an amendment. "Eric+Teenagers." I had a great deal of fun with this.
> 
> I'm always accepting prompts and requests over on tumblr, along with having some whacky conversations. I love to hear from people. You can fond me [here](http://paradigmflaws.tumblr.com/)!

_"Fine," he had agreed grudgingly. When she began to explain what she typically did, Eric cut her off. "It’s fine. It won’t be that complicated."_  
  
Hindsight told him that was where he went wrong. He had agreed. But then - how hard could it have been? Twenty five Dauntless teenagers, most of them eighteen months away from their Choosing ceremony. School had been canceled - the trains were impassable.  
  
Fucking Erudite, shorting out the wiring. Few things were worse than sheer ineptitude.  
  
The Dauntless leader had agreed to take charge of the teenagers. “It will only be for an hour. At most.” She was frazzled, desperate to get someone - anyone - to agree. There were other things she had to be doing.  
  
The teenagers had assembled in a loose form of order. At least, what passed for it in Dauntless. The noise was lower than a dull roar (they hadn’t quite managed to drown out the sounds of the waterfall in the chasm) and..well. They had seemed orderly. Bored, but compliant.  
  
He would simply take them to a training room. It wasn’t often that dependents got attention from a leader of the faction.  
  
They would be thrilled, Eric surmised.  
  
Hindsight indicated that was another place that he had gone wrong.

The training room had become chaos. More than twenty teenage bodies had become impossible for a single adult to keep track of.  
  
Frankly, the situation had been rigged.  
  
One of the bolder boys - he already had a sleeve tattooed from his wrist to his shoulder - had convinced Eric to demonstrate holds that they had seen but never been taught. The Dauntless man had complied, his attention focusing on grips and holds, throws and guards. Several of the boys had proved to be a quick study.  
  
He wasn’t surprised. The male Dauntless dependents were - _shit_.  
  
Several of the girls had joined in on observing his demonstration.  
  
Not nearly enough to account for the whole population.  
  
Creases furrowed in his brow as he scowled. The training room was a flurry of motion - some of the boys had partnered off, practicing what they had just been shown. Others…? Eric squinted in disbelief.  
  
One especially charismatic boy found himself in a throng of several of the girls, their laughter almost sounding shrill.  
  
Still more had removed themselves to the bleachers alongside the ring. Those, he dismissed - they weren’t going to go anywhere. They were too engrossed in their low murmurs of conversation to pose a problem.  
  
Eric swore.  
  
Stepping back, he attempted to count heads. The size of the room posed a challenge, as the teenagers had spread out - and the fact that they _never stopped moving_ (well, some of them) increased the difficulty tenfold. The man’s tally was interrupted as his attention settled on the co-ed group by the punching bags.

"What," he snapped, his voice dripping in ice, "are you doing?"  
  
Eric strode over to the charismatic boy who was now shirtless. All evidence indicated that he had been preparing to shuck off his pants next. The girls, who had been tittering, averted their eyes although they didn’t even have the good sense to seem chastised. He narrowed his eyes.  
  
” _Stay. There._ " His voice was clipped, as no fewer than three of them shifted, as if they were going to try to slink away. "You. Explain."  
  
The boy grinned, rolling his shoulders in an easy shrug. His shirt - balled into a wad of fabric - hit him in the face as Eric threw it at him. Huffing as he pulled it on, the boy straightened again. “I’m not going to turn down a dare, am I?” His smile was bright against his dark skin, eyes bright with good-humor.  
  
Eric didn’t even bother trying to sort that out. “Keep your clothes on. That’s an order.”  
  
Turning around, the Dauntless man tried to recollect his thoughts. Tally. Counting. Right. What number had he been at?  
  
Fuck it. He’d have to start from the beginning again.  
  
To his credit, Eric earnestly had anticipated being able to take the time to count the heads in the training room. This time, though, he was stopped before he even reached eight. Sprinting to the training mats, the Leader reached the ring just in time to clasp his large hand around a slender wrist. His muscles didn’t even twitch as he restrained the punch that the girl had been trying to deliver.  
  
Her opponent, a boy of similar size (smart, Eric analyzed in the back of his mind. If you have to pick a fight, never over-face yourself with a match up) had a split lip. Hauling the girl back against his side, he bodily moved her aside as he shoved himself between them. His shoulder caught the boy’s, before the teenager ricocheted off the muscled adult, staggering back a step.  
  
"You bi-" the snarled accusation was cut off as Eric’s free hand reached out to grasp his shoulder.  
  
"I don’t care what happened," Eric began in a tone of voice that he considered reasonable.  
  
Before he could continue, he was cut off by an outraged gasp. The girl twisted her arm in his grasp, struggling in vain to release herself. “He’s being an ass!” Her voice wasn’t shrill, not full of the giggles and laughter that he had heard from some of the other girls her age. “You bastard!”  
  
_That_ tone he was familiar with. It was full of lethal intent, her eyes narrowed in a venomous stare that had targeted the boy.  
  
"Enough!"  
  
This time, his voice wasn’t level or low. It was practically a roar from the man whose ability to be speak in faux reasonability with a deadly cool tone of voice was sufficient to stymie even the most rambunctious of the Dauntless faction.  
  
Children were defective.  
  
It didn’t work on them.  
  
As the two - one in either hand - continued their squabble, Eric made eye contact with the handful of boys who had clustered at the edge of the ring. Nodding them forward, he was more than happy to pass off the boy to his friends, their hands a natural restraint.  
  
What the hell was he supposed to do with her, though? Eric’s scowl was growing more pronounced. Dragging her out of the ring and forcing her to scurry to keep up with his larger stride, he drew them to a stop next to the bleachers. Making eye contact with her, he opened his voice - prepared to reprimand her for her inability to follow orders - when a cold chill ticked up his spine.  
  
Fury had dissolved from her expression. Instead, she was looking.. at…  
  
"Stay," Eric snarled, shoving her at the bleacher seats, before he spun around to stalk away.  
  
He bit back an epithet. “Alright,” she murmured, her voice sounding a fucking decade older than her actual age. Eric shuddered. The invitation in the teenager’s voice was transparent, and it was one he was more than happy to retreat from.  
  
Quick, long steps drew him to the door-frame of the training area. He could count them from here, Eric decided. No one was going to come near the door.  
The kids in (and around) the arena..yes, they were there. The cluster of dependents by the punching bags hadn’t moved. A flurry of movement on the back wall indicated that his next group were there. Finally, satisfaction and a sense of control settled over Eric’s shoulders. Everything was under control. The last group were the bleacher kids and they weren’t.. going…. to go anywhere?  
  
"Fuck." They hadn’t been there when he deposited the other girl there.  
He racked his brain for the memory of what they looked like. A girl? A few girls? No, there had definitely been a boy. Some of the girls, he recognized on the back wall.  
  
But where the hell had the others gone?

“ _So_.” The word was weighted with implications that Eric didn’t even want to consider at the moment. She had finally come back.  
  
He cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine,” he replied - trying to ignore the fact that his voice sounded a touch defensive.  
  
It was the laugh that did him in. It rolled over him from where she stood behind his shoulder, clearly staring into the room. What she saw that evoked such fucking hilarity, Eric thought sourly, he couldn’t say. But something was clearly appealing to her sense of humor.  
  
When he spun around, prepared to demand an explanation, Eric’s words died a swift death. He hadn’t even managed to get one out. Hindsight - again - indicated that was not a bad thing.  
  
She stood there with two _incredibly_ guilty looking teenagers in front of her. Their lips were swollen. She had a bruise sucked into her neck and it was already blooming into a spectacular array of colors. A studied eye indicated that the boy’s shirt had been put on inside out.  
  
The Dauntless woman gave both teenagers a look. They crept into the room, clearly intrigued enough to remain in ear-shot of the conversation that the adults were preparing to have. When she gave them another look though, the eyebrow creeping up in admonishment, they retreated to a side wall, looking properly abashed.  
  
"So," she began again. "Fine."  
  
A muscle ticked in Eric’s jaw. “How-” Incredulousness was rife in his voice. The two she had clearly found elsewhere had fallen properly into rank and file. He cleared his throat, his tone leveling out. “Fine.”  
  
She laughed.  
  
Stepping out of the doorway, she removed herself from the shadow of Eric’s larger physique. Visible to the rest of the room now, she adopted an expression that he wondered if he had when he was counting heads.  
  
"Well, the rest of them are here." She turned to him, an impish grin on her lips. "So yeah. Probably fine. But in the future you might want to think about smaller rooms."  
  
"Absolutely not," Eric refuted. "Not next time. This was-" He paused. His eyes narrowed. Without his voice, the room was absolutely silent. Down to the very last teenager, they had all turned their eyes to the woman who had returned, expectant silence settling over the training room.  
  
The muscle in his jaw ticked again. “No.” Before he left though, Eric paused in the door frame. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught her eye. “Try initiates sometime.”  
  
Her laugh chased after his escaping form. “Too easy. They have consequences for disobedience.”  
  
Eric didn’t stay around to argue.  
  
There was no argument to be made.


	4. Lazy Mornings (Four/Tris)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four and Tris in an AU, where they were given the time to have these moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather vague tumblr prompt that just asked for cute Four. I'm sort of (really) bad at cute, unfortunately.

"Come back to bed."

His voice was thick with sleep as it cut through the quietude of his apartment. Because she was sitting at the windows and looking out over the city, she couldn't see what he looked like. His dark hair was tousled with sleep, his chest bare as sheets pooled in his lap. He propped himself up on one tanned arm to sit up, blearily looking in her direction.

He could see her silhouette, but it was enough to catch the corner of a smile. "Go back to sleep," she whispered quietly. "It's still early."

There was no reply. She believed that he had done so, falling back to the mattress to embrace his own respite from the day.

She hadn't given him enough credit, though. Warm palms rested on her bare shoulders as he stood behind the chair. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them needed to. His fingers played idly with the strap of the tank top she had worn to sleep. His thumb brushed gentle circles against her skin.

It was a good thing it was dark, she thought. He wouldn't be able to see the gooseflesh rising in response to his touch. She leaned into his hands slightly, one of her own reaching up to rest lightly over his. She circled his wrist with her fingers, his pulse a steady beat underneath her fingertips. She realized that his heartbeat was following the same rhythm as hers.

She turned in the chair to look up at him. Trailing both hands up his arms now, his fingers reached down around her slender torso. With an easy motion he lifted her up and instead of fighting, she curled against his chest. He carried her over to the bed but instead of depositing her in the sheets on her own, he slowly sat, cradling her in his lap.

Her arms rested over his as he reclined against the pillows. His legs fell to the outside of hers, his chest warm against her back. It was an alluring type of comfort, she thought, as she turned her cheek against his chest. The lullaby of his heartbeat dragged her back to sleep.


	5. Your Own Choices (Eric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric in two parts: ten years prior to becoming an authority in Dauntless, and then just after he's become a leader. One individual links both scenes together, and Eric is forced to make a choice to determine where his path will take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon request on tumblr looking for Eric bullied as a child and then Eric meeting up with the person who intervened again later, but under a very specific set of circumstances.
> 
> I delight in talking to people, and I love hearing what you think about what I've written. [come drop by!](http://paradigmflaws.tumblr.com/)

  
  
Noise was a common thing outside of the doors to the hub. Dependents passed by to and from their classes and older faction members had various business in the tall building. The daily sounds were almost enough to disguise the commotion.

  
Almost, but not quite. Children’s cheering laughter cut through the deeper adult voices, and it only took a moment to find the culprits. In the shadows of the buildings that rose high above, dust rolled over the road as a child fell to the ground. The boy resolutely did not weep, not even as the older boys (also dressed in Erudite blue) continued to harass the younger child.

  
It was, from the looks of it, escalating beyond a verbal altercation. The smallest Erudite had been knocked to the ground but even as he hit the road he was struggling to rise to his feet again.

  
No one could fault him for his tenacity, as the scene repeated itself twice more.

  
To all appearances it was a pattern that would continue until the older boys grew bored. Their laughter had muted as the exchange became more physical but from the twist of their lips it was clear that the vicious verbal jabs hadn’t dissipated in the least. One of the largest of the five boys arrayed on their feet drew his leg back to deliver a solid kick to the child on the ground.

  
It was an action that was truncated with the utmost abruptness. A hand had fallen down to grasp the nape of his neck, lifting him and shaking him aside as he was forcibly displaced. The rest of the Erudite boys scattered away, although they hadn’t run yet.

  
Maybe they should have. It might have been smarter.

  
The Dauntless woman’s teeth were moon-bright against her dark skin as she smiled, her eyes skewering each of the boys in turn. It wasn’t an Amity expression, open and full of kindness. It wasn’t even Abnegation polite. It was a baring of teeth, daring them - mere children - to step up to the line that they had drawn when they took it upon themselves to bully their peer.

  
"Not so brave now," she finally said, voice dripping with scorn. "Not so smart now. Thought Noses like you would’ve at least had the sense to pay attention when you’re busy being little shits." 

  
Down to the very last, each child had frozen at her tone. The hostility was rife in her voice.

  
"I won’t forget your faces. Scram. Now." And left with absolutely no recourse, the five Erudite boys fled.

  
Only then did she turn her attention to the boy on the ground. It was the matter of seconds and absolutely no effort to lift him up and dust him off. He hadn’t wept, she noted with an approving eye. Not even with a lip that was split and an eye that would be gloriously black by tomorrow.

  
She sighed. Erudite, though. “Don’t let them find you when you’re alone, kid. Stay in public. Harder to get away with shit there. At least, until you’re big enough to fight them off.” 

  
He blinked at her, utterly bewildered, before staggering out into the traffic that always seemed to encapsulate the area around the Hub. She watched him go for a moment, before running her hand roughly through her hair. Kids. 

  
_**\- x - x - x -** _

  
Ten years had treated them both well. He was taller than she was, now, and his figure was heavy with muscle. Tattoos patterned their way down his forearms and the beginning of a pattern had begun to take shape on his neck. Strategic piercings had been placed throughout his face.

  
Her hair was no longer just the shock of black with blues and purples gleaming in the naturally dark locks. She had greyed in the years that passed, although with specific streaks that made it seem classic instead of incidental. Not even years could take away the musculature of someone who spent decades in Dauntless. It was an edge they never lost, at least, not until their death.

  
The waterfall’s roar was deafening although neither of them seemed to care. Standing over the chasm, their thoughts were inward-looking.

  
"You told me to stay in public. Harder for people to pull shit when others are watching." Eric’s voice was just loud enough to be heard over the water.

  
She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, a wry smile slid over her lips as she leaned her elbows back against the railing over the chasm. Her attention had shifted though, was drawn from her own mind to being focused on the newest Dauntless leader.

  
"Funny," she replied at last, a quiet huff of air passing for a laugh. 

  
Eric frowned, his muscles flexing as his grip tightened around the metal railing that he held. “What do you mean.” 

  
It wasn’t a question. He demanded an explanation with all of the natural authority that had made it so easy for the faction to (eventually, she thought, with another snort) justify making him a leader. Dissenters had been thoroughly convinced to see things his way.

  
She shrugged. “A decade ago, kid. You get to throw those words back at me ten years later. Seems funny, is all. I should know better.”

  
The frown that crept over Eric’s face became fearsome, deep Vs over his brows as they furrowed into a scowl. If it had stayed that way, it would have been less disconcerting. Instead, in the blink of an eye his features smoothed out. His eyes were ice as he looked at her, expression impassive.

  
"You’re not running."

  
"Too old to fight it, kid. But if you’re really going to do it, I’m not going to help you. You’ll have to own this on your soul and come to peace with it on your own. That’s all on you."

  
There wasn’t any use in excuses. Eric had been promoted for a very particular agenda. He knew it best of anyone - but she still had eyes clear enough to see. Erudite coming and going in ways they never had before, Matthews being disquietingly familiar with the young leader. It was writing on the wall, at that point, and it seemed that her luck had run out. She must have been the top of a very long list of suspects.

  
He wasn’t even bothering trying to confirm it. Eradicate the weakness, then.  
  
It must be his own, as well as the faction’s. A flurry of motion saw his hands wrapped around her upper arms and it was the matter of seconds to lift her up, up, and over the railing to dangle over the chasm. 

  
She didn’t fight, not even as his muscles locked. His fingers dug into her biceps so tightly that she knew there would be bruises. Good luck explaining that.  


 "It's on you, kid. You made your own choices."


	6. Blink (Eric/oc)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An impromptu staring contest leads to an opportunity for a series of bets among Dauntless members - or it would, if anyone were dumb enough to take them. But who is stupid enough to bet against Eric? ...Other than Zeke. But he's more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt - staring contest & reward. Something not traumatic for people to read!

"Twenty points on Eric."

The man next to him jeered, shoving an elbow into his ribcage. They tussled for a moment before the two separated. Shoving his shoulder against his friend, the second man snorted.

"You'd need to be Amity to take that bet, idiot." He rolled his eyes. "Who the hell would bet against Eric?"

As a whole, a crowd of Dauntless members was always going to be a restive affair. This seemed to be no different. No one seemed capable of standing still. Elbows nudged one another as hips shoved other people out of their space. Arms slung over shoulders in a relaxed manner as everyone clustered closer. No one was willing to give up a front row seat.

Only two people seemed completely unperturbed. Eric was a familiar figure, the sharp black of his tattoos standing out in stark relief against his skin, even in the dim light of Dauntless at night. Sitting across from him, she seemed completely relaxed.

It was an unusual sight. Normally when someone was faced with that particular expression on Eric's face they were too busy trying to figure out how to get out of his sight as quickly as possible. She seemed unperturbed by his scrutiny.

Zeke's laugh was distinct, even among the Dauntless. "Screw you," he told the two who had tried to find takers for a bet. "I'll take it. Fifty points on her - I think Eric's gonna lose."

His words were loud enough to reach the two contestants in the rather impromptu staring contest. Her brow arched as Eric's features settled into a deep scowl of displeasure. "Gonna pay for that," he replied coolly even as his gray eyes remained fixed to on hers.

" _Fifty_ points?!" His voice broke in his indignant squawk.

Zeke smiled brightly. "Only a pansycake makes such a pathetic bet like twenty."

A chorus of hoots erupted at the casual way the young Dauntless man had handled that. The bet was accepted - there was no way to back out of it.  
Her laugh was casual. "Glad someone's got faith," she commented. There was an ache in her eyes from the dryness. It wasn't enough to reach the point of discomfort but it was noticeable.

"Whatever," another person - who had wanted to bet on Eric but found no one willing to bet against. "If you think that you can out-wait _Eric_ -"

Eric blinked.

"I do. And I did."

The smugness in her voice was enough to evoke a dark grumble from the Dauntless leader, as he shoved himself into a stand. The furor of the crowd around them abruptly died. Only Zeke seemed implacable in his crowing satisfaction. Glaring at the cluster of people, it was only after they scattered - abruptly - that he wheeled around to look at her again.

She had lifted herself to her feet, dusting her hands off on her thighs. "My reward," she commented. "You'll be excusing me from the bogus tour with Amity next week, thank you very much. As, er, delightful as I find your company, you can go on your own."


End file.
